Retrieval
by Chris St Thomas
Summary: Prolog and CH 1 redeveloped.  Where are Cobb's children?  Did anyone actually square Cobb's and Arthur's lines with Coboll Engineering?  Join us, Constant Reader, as Arthur and Ariadne explore these questions and more.  Reviews welcome.
1. Prologue

A/N-I make no money now, but I'm willing to negotiate with Mr. Nolan or his reps. That's how confident I am in this story.

Retrieval

Prologue: From some other Beginning's End

As the 747 taxied toward the gate at Los Angeles International Airport, Robert Fisher, Jr., retied his black necktie. From an inside pocket in his suit jacket, he took out his smart phone intending to check his voice messages and emails.

For a long moment, he looked at the phone.

Then, he put it back in his pocket. Robert smiled, feeling at peace. He was his own man. He felt well rested and relaxed. He half remembered some amazing dreams from his nap during the flight they were fading away like the morning mist.

The young businessman looked out the window at the grass in the taxi-way median and thought about nicknames for the first time since he'd entered school. Bobby? Bert? Maybe just Rob.

Fisher had decisions to make, but there would be time to make them. He would see to his father. His companies could do without him for a little while. _They'd better get used to it._

As he stood, Robert noticed two of his fellow passengers, a middle aged Japanese and a sandy haired thirty-something, both still sleeping. But didn't worry about them. Nothing worried him at the moment; his father's arrangements had been settled in a Tandberg conferece hours before the flight. And that was that.

The businessman calmly gathered his own bag and his coat, unhurried for perhaps the first time in his life. The stewardess, flight attendant he corrected himself, stepped over and helped him out of the cabin. _The one guy had been nice enough, returning my passport and toasting my father..._

Ariadne glanced from her architecture notes to Cobb and back. Again. He still wasn't awake. _It's going on ten minutes now. _She hadn't actually been studying her notes from graduate school. She'd been going over the first aid she'd learned in Girl Scouts fifteen years ago. She still remembered how to evaluate a casualty and treat for shock. _Did I learn any remedy for coma? I ... can't remember. I know they didn't teach anything for What To Do When Your Boss Hasn't Woken Up From Limbo._

Arthur pretended to be studying the screen of his phone while he watched Fisher carry his briefcase out of the first class cabin and begin to descend the spiral staircase. As soon as Fisher's head dropped below the deck, the Point Man sprang into action. He leaped from his seat to the overhead bin, without first adjusting his necktie.

Eames, the ruddy and muscular forger, and Yusuf, the portly chemist, rose to gather their things. Casually glancing at Cobb and Saito, they saw their Team Lead and their Employer were still asleep. Yusef's eyes went wide and Eames looked away. Eames pulled his and Yusef's gear from the overhead bin while Yusef just stood there looking dumbfounded.

Ariadne moved around Eames and Yusuf to check Cobb's pulse and respiration.

Arthur removed his brown leather weekend bag from the overhead bin with an efficient and practiced motion. He set several of the airline inflight blankets-the ones he'd stacked next to his bag after boarding for just this emergency-into his seat. _Cobb! No time for him now._ The best thing Arthur could do for his friend and mentor right now was to get to somewhere else with the Dream Machine.

The Point Man set the brown weekend bag next to the navy blue blankets, zipped it open and pulled out an empty garment bag. Empty garment bag in hand, Arthur dashed around Eames and Yusef and gathered the metal case that contained the Dream Machine from where the stewardess had stashed it in the galley.

Back at his seat, Arthur packed the case into the garment bag with several airline blankets around the it to make the bag appear filled with clothes, rather than a metal case. Garment bag zipped, he donned his suit jacket and scooped up his bags.

Eames shuffled Yusef out of the first class cabin to the stair well next to the stewardess's tiny galley. It wouldn't do for a staring, incoherant chemist to be caught here with Cobb and their employer. They maneuvered around the flight attendant on the stairwell.

The pilots opened the reinforced door to the flight deck and immediately noticed Saito and Cobb still apparently asleep. Having both served as Naval Aviators, an exchange of glances was all it took, and the pilots, too, sprang into action.

The Captain returned to the flight deck and grabbed his headset. The First Officer began to evaluate Saito, first checking for pulse and breathing. "Janet, I need you to see to these other passengers," he called out to the flight attendant.

Arthur slipped out behind her with the garment bag folded over his left arm and his weekend bag slung over a shoulder. He wasn't sure how he'd get the Dream Machine through customs yet, but he couldn't leave it right there with Cobb and Ariadne.

"Mr. Kwan," the First Officer called out to the flight engineer/navigator who was still on the flight deck going thru the postflight checklist, "come out here and evaluate the other casualty."

_Ariadne!_ Arthur glared at her as he made his way down the spiral staircase and out though the boarding door into the jetway. Striding down the jet way, Arthur checked his wallet and found that he had forty-one euros and sixty-four dollars Australian. Good to know, but not what he needed. He kept looking. Eventually found his old Scientific Atlanta ID badge. He smiled and immediately began to calmly and casually unzip the garment bag and remove the metal case from it. As he passed through a set of double doors at the end of the jetway, he deposited the garment bag in a waste bin and asked beautiful passerby if she'd hold the case for him a moment. He would use a well-practiced way of getting through customs.

Her feet riveted to the deck of the first class cabin, Ariadne stood just stood there smiling sheepishly back as Arthur descended the spiral staircase. The back of her hand against Cobb's cheek, Ariadne felt no fever. She did feel Kwan brush past her on his way to Cobb. She could hear the Captain in the cockpit talking with the Tower about his request for ambulances, EMS and police. She wondered if Arthur would call Professor Miles and decided that she wanted to call him either way. Looking up at the flight attendant who had positioned herself to block Ariadne's path, Ari realized the other woman had said something.

"I asked if you knew him well?" Janet said, smiling a firm professional smile, almost devoid of warmth. Behind her, Kwan held a mirror to Cobb's mouth with one hand and felt for the radial pulse near the wrist with his other.

The architecture student stood up from where she'd been checking on Cobb, leaving him with the Flight Engineer. "Nobody knows anybody. Not really." Adne noticed the sound of sirens in the distance and getting closer. A glance out the window showed not a single airplane or airport crew vehicle moving.

"What?" The flight attendant looked puzzled.

Inside the airport, in the hall that led from the jetway to customs a beautiful woman asked Arthur, "What, d'you think, I'm going to get this thing through customs for you somehow?" She sounded slightly annoyed, but her eyes held a touch of mirth.

"Nope," Arthur replied. "I wouldn't do a thing like that to a nice lady like you. Not after all the trouble I went through to steal it."

The look on the beauty's face was priceless. Her eyes got wide; she held the case out a few inches away from her and then glanced down at it sideways. But she did not drop it. That was very important.

Breezily, Arthur held up his right hand, open palm facing up and next it to his closed left hand facing down. He showed her his unkempt sleeves and smiled. Turning his left and over smoothly and opening it like a magician revealing the turn, he said, "No, I'm kidding. I'm just ask you to give me a second put in my cuff links." He smiled and fiddled with his cufflinks. "It's mine. Really, it is. Or it's the company's anyhow."

Back in the first class cabin, Adne told a confused looking flight attendant about how long she'd known Cobb. "A couple of weeks." Adne said. "I knew him for two, maybe three weeks. We did a project together in Sidney." The first statement was truth, the second a half truth. "Now we return to LA and resume our lives." Another truth, this time followed by an outright lie. Adne reached into her pocket and pulled out the chess piece she'd machined in the workshop back in Paris. She stooped to set it on the flat drink holder next to one of the seats. She balanced it on it's edge and it stayed. If she were in someone else's dream it would fall over because no one's subconscious besides hers could account for it's unique mass and balance.

She scooped it back up. She felt mildly ill, dehydrated, famished. She wanted an omelet with homefries, an English muffin, orange juice, and hot tea. _How much time is passing for Cobb four levels down in Limbo?_ How could she just go back to her life?

Back in the airport, outside the customs area, Arthur took the metal case back in his left hand, and offered his right to the beautiful woman who had briefly held the case. "Thank you very much. I'm Arthur by the way." That was even the name on his old ID card. "Very. Pleased to meet you. I consulted for Scientific Atlanta and I've just demonstrated this very fine product at a technical conference, in Sidney."

"You last name is Very? That's quite an odd name." They both turned to rejoin the flow of passengers. The beauty fell into step next to Arthur. She flashed him a mischievous smile. "I'm Amy Just."

"Oh. That's a good one. Two actually." Arthur mimed stroking two points on an imaginary scoreboard. "So, I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." They were stuck in a bit of a line now.

"Your... what? Your blood type?" She poked him in the shoulder. "Your astrological sign?"

"My name. It's Slate. Arthur Slate. I'm from Queens in New York."

"I'm from South Island, Enn Zed," the beauty replied.

The sound of sirens had stopped next to the 747 from Sidney. Both Adne and Janet the Flight Attendant glanced toward the sound of heavy footsteps clomping up the spiral staircase. Ariadne wondered if the police or the EMS would come first.

Back in the customs line Arthur asked, "And your name..?"

"I told you." the beauty replied.

"What... are you a famous singing sensation or something, back there in South Island? Do you go by just one name, like Frank or Sting or the Edge?" Arthur extended his free hand and looked up into the middle distance miming a glance at a marquee. "8:00 pm Tonight! Five nights a week and twice on Sundays! Amy!"

"Oh, you're good too. Buy my a drink at that bar over there after we clear customs. I'm up next." She smiled and moved off.

Arthur hated leaving his friends like that. Especially Ariadne. He didn't know what to make of her: young, idealistic, insightful, maybe the conscience of the team? If there was still a team. On the other hand, besides her, they'd all left him. Which was expected. _Even Cobb._ Which was not expected. _Damn him._ _Well, not entirely unexpected._ _Damn him, anyway._

A voice from down the way calling, "Next," jarred Arthur out of his reverie. The Point Man smiled confidently and made his way down to the open counter. "I have nothing to declare." He unshouldered his brown leather bag, setting it down on the table next to the passport man's stand. He passed over his documents.

The passport man at went through the usual drill with Arthur's passport and glanced at his Scientific Atlanta ID card.

Arthur took back the Sci Atlanta ID card.

"What about that metal case." The passport man gestured for another customs inspector to step over to and go through Arthur's leather bag.

"What this? This metal valise? It's classified technology. I can't declare this." He smiled broadly. "Just look on the blue form. It's all there. Really"

The customs inspector glanced down on top of the case. A moment ago there had been no form. And now, presto. There it was. He looked the form over. "You didn't say what it is. All you wrote was classified." The passport man gestured. "Open it up."

Arthur smiled. He opened the case.

The customs man looked at the Dream Machine. "What. Is. That. Is it some kind of medical device or computer?"

"I told you. It's classified. I shouldn't even be showing it to you."

"Oh, I get it, if you told me, you'd have to..." the Customs man smiled, made a gurgling sound and drew a line across his neck. He glanced back at the other inspector who gave a thumbs up.

"No. Not me." Arthur shrugged. "I should think it'd be another one of the US Government's alphabet soup agencies that would be doing that."

The customs man smiled and waved Arthur through.

Arthur grabbed his passport and his things and moved along toward the bar and the babe. He wondered if they took euros or Aussie bucks. Probably both in a place like the international terminal at LAX.

Meanwhile, back on board the 747 airliner Arthur had just walked away from, a four man stack of SWAT cops wearing bullet proof vests and hazmat suits wound its way up the stairs to first class, weapons pointing in controlled directions. Chemical protective masks turned this way and that, always in line with the weapons as the cops each scanned a sector looking for threats. They moved with practiced ease, as though they were quite used to working in the hazmat suits. Entering the first class cabin, all the SWAT cops began barking orders. The flight attendant knelt on the floor and put her hands behind her head. Ari followed suit. _Cops first. Hmmmpf. Makes sense, I guess._


	2. CH 1

Thanks to my reviewers. I appreciate the encouragement and the constructive criticism. I am, after all, striving to improve my craft. And thanks to Mr Nolan for not suing those of us who use his characters and situations.

Retrieval

Chapter 1

At Los Angeles International Airport, aboard the 747 jetliner that had just arrived from Sidney, Ariadne and Janet the Stewardess had just knelt on the deck in the aisle of the first class cabin, under the watchful eyes of one SWAT cop in a hazmat suit. The First Officer and the Flight Engineer continued to evaluate the still sleeping Cobb and Saito.

Also wearing hazmant suits, the other three SWAT cops checked all the overhead bins, nooks and crannies, coat closets, the lavatory and even braced up the Captain on the flight deck. They pulled out several kinds of test kits and wiped down one of the overhead bin doors and broke capsules. Finally they yelled "Clear!" By that time two pairs EMS Paramedic technicians were already shouldering their way past the SWAT cops along with two uniformed Airport Police.

A pair of nondescript men wearing sunglasses and a nondescript suits, hung back next to the curtain that separated the first class cabin from the service area. One of the nondescript men had an FBI badge clipped to his breast pocket.

The SWAT cops removed their chem masks, slung their weapons. "We're on TAC-3, if you need us," the Number Two Man slapped the Senior Paramedic on the shoulder and joined his mates as the four made their way off the jet.

Ari and the flight attendant rose and moved out of the way of the EMS technicians. The Airport cops each took one of the ladies and began to ask questions. The G-men just stood very still at the back of the cabin and took in everything.

The EMS guys queried the flight crew about what they had done for the casualties, as they went to work on Cobb and Saito themselves. They checked pulse and breathing, whacking knees, and shining lights in eyes and calling off info to their partners who busily wrote everything down on digital pads the size and shape of clipboards..

One of the G-Men crossed his arms and asked the other without looking at him. "Do you think this could be one of those new Dream Crimes we've seen in reports from Interpol and back East?"

"Could be."

Each pair of EMS techs took one casualty. Each lead EMS tech began rolling up sleeves and unbuttoning shirts and checking pockets. One found Cobb's wallet and the other found Saito's passport when they got to the pants. Each tossed it to his partner, who scanned the I.D. and proceeded to call of names, ages and nationalities. The one examining Saito called, "I've got needle marks."

"More needle marks," called the one examining Cobb.

The FBI guys perked up in position at the aft end of the first class cabin.

The Airport cops excused themselves from the ladies, and conferred with each other in the center of the aircraft, "What if it is one of those new Dream Crimes? We've heard the same rumors those guys have." Eddie Excited asked.

"Doubt that." Donnie Downer answered. "Bet they hear all the best rumors."

The FBI guys smiled for half a second and continued to watch the cabin just taking it all in.

"Naw. Wait." Donnie Downer considered and reviewed what he'd seen the SWAT cops doing when he walked in. "Can't be one a them newfangled Dream Crimes. Ain't no metal case with a technical doo-hickie in it."

"Ah yes, good point." said Eddie Excited. "The SWAT men would surely have found it." He went back to the flight attendant. His partner went back to Aridne as well.

The EMS techs finished with the I.D.s and passed them off to the cops, who scanned them, too. "No warrants on the Japanese." called Eddie, sounding slightly discouraged.

Ari held her breath. She was sure that Cobb's charges would come up and then...

"None on my guy, neither," Both the airport cops looked slightly down cast. "He gots a couple of parking tickets, but they're past the statue of lim'tations."

Ariadne breathed a huge sigh of relief. _No charges against Cobb. _She glanced over at Saito whose head lolled to the side with spittle running down his chin. He definitely hadn't made any phone calls in this reality. She looked perplexed again. She thought about the short interview she'd had with the Airport cop. She'd given her name and showed her American passport. She'd stuck to a very simple story that had nearly been the whole truth. _I fell asleep before we left the ground in Sidney. I have no idea what happened in the cabin during the flight._ She didn't have the first clue about the flight. She knew exactly what happened before the plane began to taxi. Cobb had spiked the Fisher guy's water and they had all wired into the Dream Machine and taken Yusef's sedative compound. The cop hadn't technically asked her about the time before taxi and takeoff. He'd asked about the flight, which technically didn't start until they left the ground.

Saito's eyes suddenly opened and he sucked in a deep breath, gasping for air. "Where is Cobb? He saved my life. I must make a phone call."

"Okay, Saito-san. All in good time." his EMT remarked, glancing around at cops, then back at the Bureau men, none seemed interested in an international business tycoon and genius engineer, if he had no warrants. "If you feel able to walk, my partner and I will take you down to the ambulance and finish checking you out there."

Saito felt very thirsty as he glanced around and saw the police and the Agents. Immediately he wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else, even more than he wanted a bottle of water. "Hai. We go." He stood carefully. The EMS technicians gathered their kit and helped him with his belongings.

The EMS tech with the digital clipboard who was paging thru Cobb's medical records spoke up, "Mr Cobb has a standing medical directive in his file from ten years ago while he was in the Army. It was triggered after I entered all his presenting symptoms."

"What does it say?"

"It's encrypted. I can only read part of it. It says to surrender him to Federal custody."

"We'll take it from here," Crossed Arms unbuttoned his blazer. The FBI agents walked over.

The senior EMS tech stood his ground, "Just a minute there, pal. Federal custody isn't necessarily FBI custody." He grabbed his own data pad out of his medical bag. "Beam his file over here. I still have my Clearance from my time in the Service. I should be able to read the Classified medical directive."

The two EMS techs lined up their pads.

The senior tech frowned. "It says here to surrender him to Veterans' Administration medical custody for immediate and direct MEDEVAC to a Classified Air Force Hospital, for Classified treatment." His data pad said that Dominic Cobb was to placed immediately and forthwith into suspended animation at an Air Force Hospital.

Both EMS guys went back to work. "He's still our patient," The one still standing said. He tapped a code into the data pad that activated a phone program and placed a call to the Veterans' Administration. He and his EMS partner had a sacred duty to treat their patient. The FBI guys could sort jurisdiction with the VA after the patient was safe.

The FBI Agents looked at each other. Agent No. Two, kicked the senior Airport cop in the shoe. "Drug case. It's yours for now."

"I'm calling the DEA." said the Agent Crossed Arms. "We'll see who's going for redacted treatment."

The Airport cops perked up.

"Yeah, we'll take it."

The junior EMS tech put the call to the VA on hold and turned to the cops. "No one said anything about drugs. He said needle marks. For all you know this guy could be diabetic."

Cobb spoke without opening his eyes or even moving anything other than his mouth, "I've been awake for about five minutes now and I'll save you guys the trouble of bringing a crash cart up to the catering entrance. I'm not diabetic and since you fine gendarmes and the Interpol guys over there have nothing to hold me on, I'll be going with these fine medicos and then off to see my children. I've been away for far too long."

"Where do you live?" asked Ariadne.

Cobb still hadn't opened his eyes, "You're still here, Ariadne?"

"Yes."

"Bless you, for staying with me to see that I'm okay. I have a place near Santa Monica." He smiled and stood up. Soon he would see his children. Would he take Ariadne to meet them? Not yet.

Two and a half days later, Arthur's mobile phone rang in the middle of the night. He answered it before he thought better just to make it stop ringing. "Allo." He switched the phone to his right hand and reached for the light. He had a little trouble with it because his left hand also contained his totem, the loaded die. He rolled it gently on the nightstand. It showed what it was supposed to. Scooping it back up he concluded that if he was dreaming, at least it was his own dream. In anyone else's dream the die would have rolled randomly.

"Arthur, this is Yusef, the chemist from Mumbassa."

"I know who you are, Yusef. How did you get my number?"

Yusuf continued, "It's about Cobb, Arthur. He didn't come out of the sedation this time."

"He's supposed to be in Santa Monica with his children." Arthur said tiredly. "What's he doing in Mumbassa with you?" Arthur said his alertness word three times loudly in his mind. Instantly, he felt fully alert thanks to his commando training.

"He was on the first flight to Mumbassa with me. Now he's in my back room, with the other Dreamers." Yusef pronounced the capital letter.

"Okay, jack into this dream with him. Look around. If you see maroon house by the beach or you see he's playing with his kids, don't call me. Just hook up an IV, give him saline and nutrient solution and get him a bed pan. I'm sure you know someone who can do that. Bill it to his share of the stock from Mr. Saito's company." Arthur thought about the fifteen point jump shares of Mr Saito's company had taken on just the speculation that Fisher-Morrow would be spun off and sold in pieces to the highest bidders. "If you see anything besides a maroon house near the beach, you call Professor Miles. Maybe he cares."

"I did call Professor Miles." The chemist's voice came across two continents and an ocean with a slight delay as it transited the satellites. "It was he who said to call you."

"Then call Mr Saito. I'll give you his number." He remembered what Saito had said from the helicopter. He recalled what Ariadne had told him about when they'd caught up to each other in the airport bar over matching plates of scrambled eggs. Arthur knew he'd care in the morning, but right now he was just too tired.


	3. CH 2

Disclaimer - I make no profit and they file no law suits

Retrieval Chapter 2

Arthur stood in a terrycloth robe with the logo of the LAX hotel on on it. He looked in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. In the reflection he could see the gray walls of his room with their thin red and black stripes, his side of the unmade bed and the TV tuned to FOX Business with the volume off. He'd plugged his iPod into the room's clock-radio and one of his film score playlists was scrolling through his favorite selections from Zimmer, Silvestri, Williams and others.

As he rinsed his mouth, he saw the stock symbol for Mr. Saito's company scroll across the bottom of the screen along other industrial firms. He noticed that it was only up two and a half from its price before the flight with Robert Fisher, Jr. Arthur could have sworn the leader board at the top of yesterday's business section had shown it up 15 points on speculation following Maurice's funeral that Robert would spin off the businesses.

"Ari, Honey, what day is it?" Arthur called out pleasantly.

The hum of the air conditioner was his only answer as one of the film themes that started softly played out of his iPod. _Probably some some adventure theme by Danny Elfman or a Alan Sylvestri, both of them had pieces that started off soft and then rose_. He heard no chimes; instead, a swell of brass and percussion with flute at the top. _Sylvestri._

Setting down his tooth brush, he rinsed his hands and walked out into the bedroom. No Ari. Her side of the queen sized bed was still made. A glance across to the closet showed last nights clothes neatly hung, not strewn about the floor. Now, he looked down at the plush carpet and saw only the impressions of his own footsteps.

Ari had not been in this room last night.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Quo Vadimus was buying Prime Sports to go along with the Continental Sports Channel. _Now he could see his favorite American sports anchors in any city in the US. Well, any city where he'd be doing business, anyway._ Next up Maurice Fisher's funeral. "Clock volume 5. TV volume 20," Arthur called and took a seat on the still-made side of his bed. _Maybe it wasn't Ari's side after all._

The Fox Business anchor was saying that Maurice Fisher's funeral would be tomorrow afternoon. _But hadn't that been yesterday?_ Now Robert Fisher, Jr was on, "There are many decisions to be made regarding Fisher Morrow's future. But those decisions can wait until we've mourned my father's passing. Ask me next week. What's that? Of course my father and I had our differences, but at the end, he wanted me to be my own man." Robert's smile looked genuine. Arthur thought to call Cobb so they could congratulate each other. But he was with his children. Wasn't he? Arthur turned to Ari, but she wasn't with him either.

_What day was it?_

And then he saw it on the shelf under the the nightstand. The metal valise containing the Dream Machine. It was open. And one of the leads wasn't quite all the way rolled up. Had he been dreaming when he took the call from Yusef? He thought back. _When he took the call from Yusef, he'd been lying in a king sized bed with silk sheets and walls the color off coffee with milk. _Arthur reached into the breast pocket of his terrycloth robe and took out his loaded die. He stepped through an archway into the tiny lounge and tossed the die on the coffee table next couch. It rolled correctly. When he'd taken Yusef's call it had also rolled correctly. That only proved that he'd been in his own dream. _He'd been dreaming of Room 491 where he'd spent the second and third parts of the Fisher Job. He'd been dreaming of Ari in Room 491. _

He bolted upright. _Had he taken care of his duties as Point Man before he'd plugged in? _He pulled his laptop out of his weekend bag and set up on the coffee table. The he scooped up his totem and went into the bed room to grab his phone while the laptop booted up. The call log showed that all the right calls had been placed last night. The call lengths looked about right, too. He logged into his bank and checked the business account. All the appropriate payments were programmed. At least their alibis were set, if they needed them. He hadn't needed to pick up any hotels or rental cars from before the job. That was one nice thing about having the client along.

Well, there was nothing for it but to finish his morning toilet and meet Ari for breakfast.

He sat with a cappuccino, an orange and the morning paper until she arrived. When he saw Ari over the top of the Life Section, Arthur wiped his lips with his napkin, folded his paper and rose, pulling her chair, ever the gentleman. Ariadne's smile still lit the room brilliantly, though her eyes betrayed her. She hadn't slept much last night. _Perhaps he should have let her have the Dream Machine. _She wore fresh clothes, but no make up and her hair wasn't entirely done. She had it under a scarf.

Ariadne laid a folio on the table and stepped over to him with one arm extended out.

_Was she about to slap him? _What had he done for real last night? Arthur smiled blandly.

Ariadne put her arm around his shoulder, while her other hand gently took his opposite triceps muscle and she kissed the air next to both of his cheeks. "You were so sweet last night," Ari whispered in his ear. Then she took half a step back and put a hand on each of his shoulders. She smiled again. "You said that oatmeal would settle my stomach. And then you listened to all my roller coaster feelings: my thrill at completing the job, my guilt over changing Fisher's mind, my triumph over helping Cobb in Limbo. You walked me to my door and told me to rest, but I couldn't. I feel such a mess today."

Arthur decided to roll with her apparent cheerfulness, "D'you know what, let's do?"

"What?"

"Let's ride out to the beach." Arthur grew more enthused with his idea as he explained it "There's a great omelet place in Santa Monica. We can stroll on the beach and then drive on up to the Getty Villa."

"Doesn't Cobb live out in Malibu?" Ari asked

"Santa Monica." Arthur corrected

"Are you worried about him?" Ariadne changed the subject.

"Why should I be worried about him? He's with his children for the first time in almost two years and he finally got his charges cleared."

"There weren't any charges." Ariadne stated flatly, look at the folio rather than Arthur's eyes.

"How can that be?" Arthur exclaimed in a stage whisper. "He's been on and on about it for two years!"

"Look," she opened the folio, removed two printed sheets and slid them across the table to him. She kept a set for herself. "I told you I couldn't sleep last night. I went online and searched the papers. I found it. His wife's death was ruled a suicide in the coroner's inquest." Ari leaned across and easily pointed out the spot in the article, even though it was upside down from her point of view.

Arthur rolled his die in the saucer that came with his cappuccino mug. It fell correctly. A crack appeared in Arthur's world. "I've talked to his children on the phone. They ring Cobb up after every Job. I've seen them at the beach house. They call me Uncle Artie."

"Have you, Arthur?"

"Why yes, I'm sure of it." But he wasn't. Not entirely.

"Have you ever seen a photograph of them? A picture in his phone, or his music player, or his computer, even old fashioned paper photos developed at a lab?" Ari wondered at the herself. Why he had to go into a dreamstate and replay his own memories to see them instead of just looking at photos like normal people.

Arthur thought. He really thought. He couldn't recall a photo. "No, no photos with the children." _And for that matter, how did they always know where to call him? Half the time I don't even know where we're staying after a Job and I'm the Point Man. How could they have always known where call him and not the other way around?._

"What kind of a father who loves his children as much as Cobb clearly does, has not a single picture of them in any medium at all? Ari asked.

"I've seen paintings of them at his house." Arthur protested weekly.

"Then let's go." Ari rose.

Arthur sorted his newspaper correctly and set it neatly on the table, except for the business section. He slide Ariadne's prints back across to her. He fished an Australian twenty out of his wallet. That was about 10.50 today. That would mean a $6.50 tip on $4.00 cappuccino, but it would make up for the inconvenience of having to change it. At least he had his American Express for the hotel bill. He stood. "Okay. Let's away_."_ He started away from the table. "But we're going to the beach first. I've got feel something solid and real. The sand on my feet, the wind in my face, the sounds of egrets and gulls and sight of moon and sun and clouds."

"Are you okay, Arthur?"

"No." Arthur answered candidly "I dreamt of Cobb last night."

"Me, too." Ari confided. "Was he in trouble?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Let's go. I'll get my things." Ariadne suggested. "It won't take long. I don't have very much."

Arthur led her up the stairs. He didn't really want to use the elevator after what he'd done in one on the Fisher Job.

He settled both of their bills. Ariadne tried to protest, but he insisted. "You can pay me back in a couple of days when we can sell some of the stock Mr Saito used to pay us." He saw the relief on her face. As a graduate student she probably didn't have very much credit and she wouldn't want to push her limit after a single hotel room.

Arthur carried their bags to the rental car. He held Ariadne's door for her. As he sat in the driver's seat, he placed the map provided by the car rental company between his visor and the ceiling by force of habbit. They drove to the beach in silence. Each lost in thoughts of Cobb and of their last Job.

At the beach Arthur just stood in the dunes for a while and drank it all in through his eyes. Then he stooped and felt the sand. He walked down the shore, closer to the surf and put a hand down as the water ran back down. Warily, he watched for the next wave and rose at just the right moment to step away from the next one. He tugged the kerchief out of his vest pocket and dried his hand off. Then he smelt it. It smelt of salt and sand and tiny broken shells.

Ariadne took rolled up her pants, carried her shoes and walked listlessly in the very edge of the surf, where the water was an inch deep. That's where she caught up to Arthur wiping his hands. "Are you ready?"

Arthur considered. "Yes. Are you?"

"What will we say?" Ariadne asked

"If he's there?"

"Yes."

"We'll pick up cheeseburgers and home-fries at a Johnny Rockets on the way. We'll say we were in the neighborhood and we brought lunch."

"Okay."

Arthur had a cheeseburger with home-fries and Ari had the grilled chicken sandwich with coleslaw. They didn't take extra sandwiches for Cobb and his kids. Neither one of them called the other on it. They could always pile in the car and drive back to Johnny Rockets.

The first thing Arthur noticed about Cobb's house was the weeds in the driveway. He wouldn't have expected Cobb to have completely done the yard in the twenty-four hours or so since he'd got back to Los Angeles as a free man. But the grandmother was supposed to be staying here with the children. She could hire a yard man with what Cobb said he sent back for expenses.

They pulled past one row of dunes and a couple of trees. The Arthur saw the beach house at the edge of the lot, in a clearing among the dunes, just like he remembered. It was a long, narrow, maroon wood-framed house, with a separate garage and a large kitchen with many oversized windows at the far end.

"Look at the trees, Arthur." Ari pointed up at one and then another. "No one's trimmed them in quite a while."

"Yeah. Hedges, too." He looked around and gestured with his left hand. "Yard's gone to seed. And there's no toys out." The place had never looked like this when he'd seen it before. The trees, grass and hedges had always been well cared for. And the yard always looked played in.

"Well they could all be out." Ari called after Arthur as he walked around the other side of the house. She continued, "Maybe they went to Disneyland, to celebrate Cobb's return... or to a Dodgers ballgame."

The Dodgers were in the middle of a road trip today, but that didn't matter. Arthur walked back to where Ari stood with the trees. "How many houses where children live have you ever scene that didn't have single toy left out anywhere?"

Ariadne forced a smile and held up empty hands, "None." She looked back toward their rental car, where she saw Arthur grab something out of his weekend bag, casually toss his news paper over the head rest and into the driver's seat. "So, what now?"

Arthur held up a flashlight and a set of old fashioned mechanical keys he'd fished out of his leather bag. He glanced down at the driver's seat and memorized the way his newspaper lay there, the angle the headline made with the seat back. He held up one key that looked to be well over fifty years old. "I have a torch and a key. Let's go in."

The front door was off set to one side and opened into a long hallway that ran the length of the house to the kitchen. Arthur unlocked the front door. As Ariadne walked she tried the light switches. Neither the hall light, nor the porch light worked. With the shades down and the drapes drawn, the house seemed gloom. A musty smell wafted around them. Other rooms opened off of the hall: a small livng room immediately to the left of the front door. Arthur tried the lights in the living room to no avail. Down hall doors opened to bed rooms and a single bathroom. All the pictures Ari expected were hung on the walls between the doors on the left. Some narrow ones hung between the windows. Everything was quite dusty.

Ari pointed out a couple of the paintings on the wall in the hall. Both showed the whole Cobb family: Dom, Moll, Phillipa and little James. In one picture James was a babe in arms and his sister Phillipa stood between her parents, standing on tiptoes looking up at her baby brother, her expression a mixture of wonder at such as tiny vulnerable person and horror that she'd have to share everyone's attention now. In the other picture Dom and Moll sat under the trees in the front yard at a picnic, James was a toddler and Phillipa had clearly become a loving, caring big sister.

Ari was taken a back. "Well, I guess this proves it." she gestured at the paintings.

"Yes, it does. But I don't think it proves what you want it to. I'm going back to the lounge to get a photo," Arthur went back up the hall way toward the front door and turned into the living room. He came back carrying something and went into Cobb and Moll's room. Arthur came back out of the master bedroom holding two photos.

"Look at these photos." He passed them Ari and then stepped around behind her and held the flashlight over he shoulder so she could see. "I took one and Professor Miles took the other with a timer."

"What do think this proves? In one, Moll is holding a loaf of bread fresh from the oven up for Cobb to smell. In the other they're sitting at a picnic in a different yard under different trees and Professor Miles and a lady, probably Moll's mother, both with them." Ari looked up at Arthur. "Are you daft?"

Arthur took the two paintings off the wall and lead the way down to the kitchen. Setting the paintings down on the table next to an empty fruit bowl. He then turned to the windows, opened the drapes and raised the shades. Dust billowed out into the air, but plenty of light shown in. He took his handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped the dust of the table and two of the chairs. Then he pushed the table from the center of the room over closer to the windows where more light shown.

Ari handed him the paintings. He set the one of Moll holding little James down next to the photograph of her holding a loaf of bread. Next the photo of the picnic in England, he set the painting of the picnic in the yard of this beach house. Then he covered Miles and Moll's mother with folded receipts in the one. He covered the bread with a scrap of paper in the other.

Ari's eyes grew wide. She pointed from the one with baby James to the one with the loaf of bread. "Moll and Dom are standing in the same positions and poses in the photo and the painting. It's like someone painted a picture of the photo and substituted the baby in for the loaf of bread."

"Yeah and right there in front of the oven is where the painter put in the little girl," added Arthur.

"I see, yes." Ari moved over to the other pair of images. "The fir trees in England were redone as the ones out front. Miles and his wife were just painted out, but Dom and Moll are the same, so is the picnic blanket and the basket of food and the pitcher and the cups. And the children are painted in a couple of years older."

Ari walked over to the sink and tried the faucet but nothing came out. "Nobody's been here in quite a while." _The grandmother certainly hasn't been caring for the children here. _

_Thank you all of my readers. I hope you're enjoying the ride._

_Thank you to all of my reviewers, the comments and constructive criticism help me improve my craft_

_And I've got to give props to another writer on this board. Enchantable wrote the definitive Rookie Recovers from First Job Scene in her story "Salvation." _


	4. CH 3

Retrieval Chapter 3

"I know what this is." The aged Japanese man spoke in a slow whisper, as he set his spoon down on the saucer under his soup bowl. His parched voice emerged with difficulty and great care through toothless gums and weathered lips. Mr Saito picked up the top slowly. "I have seen one before," he considered the to studiously, "many, many years ago." He spun it next to his soup bowl. "It belonged to a man I once knew at Harvard or Berkeley."

An exhausted and drained Dom Cobb raised his head from where he'd been shoveling his soup into his mouth and looked up from his own bowl to the end of the long table and for the first time truly observed the hairless man at the far end of the long table, hunched within a kimono that was now too big for him. Cobb looked across not just a table but a vast gulf of years into ancient eyes, set in parchment skin. He saw the top continue to spin next to the nine millimeter Smith and Wesson the guards had taken from him.

"I am waiting for someone," his eyes vague, the wisened man spoke as though relating a tale told many times, over many decades.

Cobb continued to rise as though gaining strength and clarity from other man's words. "Someone from a half remembered dream." The phrase started as a question but ended with certainty.

Saito straightened a bit as well, uncrossing his arms, and gazed across at a face that had aged since he'd seen it, but only a year or so for every decade he had passed. "Once we were young me together." His gaze faltered from Cobb and began to turn back inward. "I am an old man now."

Intensity returned to Cobb's countenance as rose further. "Filled with regret," he continued as though remembering lines from a long ago play.

"Waiting to die alone." Saito's eyes began to focus across the table at Cobb again, a glimmer of recognition began to form.

Cobb looked down as he remembered the next phrase and the gazed intently across at Saito, willing illumination into his words, "I've come back for you." He glanced into memory again as the part became clearer. "To remind you," Cobb's eyes returned to Saito again sincerity slowly replacing exhaustion, "of something you once knew," Cobb focused on the top as it continued to spin, willing it to impart meaning, "this world is not real."

Finality, inevitability and weariness fought with understanding, hope and inspiration as Saito spoke, "To convince me to honor our arrangement,"

"To take a leap of faith," Cobb was now fully engaged as he saw weariness and regret give way to hope and understanding in the aged visage before him. "Come back with me." Cobb continued as Saito raised his right hand back up to the table. "So we can be young men together again." Cobb saw Saito's hand open and flex deliberately. "Come back with me," Cobb urged as Saito's fingers began to clasp at the sidearm.

Cobb's eyes darted back and forth behind closed lids as his face rose to greet fresh sunlight. He opened his eyes with uncertainty and a touch of trepidation, as though unsure of what he would see upon gazing about. He saw before him the first class cabin of a 747. Relief emerged in his face. Finally, he had, almost in his grasp, that for which he had searched across months and years and decades.

He blinked as his mind raced and caught up to what his eyes and ears were tell him. Over the sound of jet engines far aft and slipstream passing his window, he heard the Australian-accented flight attendant ask if he wanted a hot towel or an immigration form. He reached up past his open-collared, starched, white dress shirt to take them. "Thank you," he said with sincerity and hope.

She continued to the young businessman who sat afore of Cobb.

Cobb gazed around the cabin lost in his own thoughts for a moment. He looked across at Arthur who had already donned his coat and tie. Arthur returned his gaze with an impressed and congratulatory look, that said, _Yeah, he beat the odds and pulled this one off._

Dom's gaze continued forward of Arthur to Ariadne where she still lay pressed back in her seat. Realization emerged in Cobb's countenance as he looked briefly into the middle distance and then settled on a confused and drained Saito, laying sideways on his seat, apparently tangled up in his own arms. Sternness and insistence focused Cobb's features as he glared across the aisle at Saito. Cobb's eyes said, _You will absolutely honor our arrangement. Now. Immediately._

Comprehension and duty emerged in Saito's face as he untangled him self, sat up, grabbed the air-phone build into his seat. He stared at it with great intensity as he punched in numbers.

Hope emerged in Cobb's face.

He made it through Passport Control.

He claimed his bag and walked past Eames and Yusuf. The three men simultaneously acknowledged and ignored each other as the young businessman, Robert Fisher, Jr., the sole heir of Fisher-Morrow, and the Mark retrieved his bags from the conveyer. Cobb walked on. He passed the limo driver holding a sign that said Fisher. He saw Professor Miles, his father-in-law, who greeted him with relief and respect. The Professor clapped him on the shoulder and led the way through the airport.

Inside Cobb's beach house, he and Miles emerged from well lit the hallway with small windows on the outside wall and many frames adorning the inside one into the glass-walled kitchen. Miles flipped a switch on the wall and a ceiling fan began to circulate the air. Cobb looked around the kitchen noticing a glass of paint water with child size brushes next to a set of water colors and some drying creations. The electric light on the wall behind him add it's modest warmth to the flood of sunlight that poured in throw large bright windows with shades up and curtains secured open. Cobb reached into his pocket and set his top spinning on the table next to the water colors and the fruit bowl.

Grandpa miles went to open the back door and Cobb looked on with hope and doubt and excitement in his face. Outside in the back a slightly older Phillip and James played together in the sunlit grass. Cobb heard the screen door open and Miles's voice say, "Look who's here." Cobb's daughter and his son turned and looked toward the sound of their Grandfather.

Cobb saw each of the faces of his two children.

Miles held the as Phillipa helped James up the step and into the kitchen, both scream and crying, "Daddy! Daddy!" with excitement and joy. Many hugs and pats and kisses were exchanged as Cobb squatted to embrace his daughter with one arm while picking up his son in the other. Miles walked back into to the house to fetch lemonade for everyone and not a single one of the four of them noticed the top as it still continued to spin. The top wobbled occasional next to the water colors, the clay dinosaur and the fruit bowl filled with bananas and pears. No one paid the top any mind at all as it continued to spin.

Professor Miles returned to Paris with Ariadne to finish out the term at the College.

Cobb and his children cooked and played and flew kites and jumped in the waves down at the beach. They read C.S. Lewis and Tolkien to each other. Well Dominic and his daughter did. Jamie had his work cut out for him with "Fox in Sox" by Dr Seuss . Summer gave way to fall and vacation gave way to school.

Cobb opened a dojo with a monk and a Sensai. They taught self defense, martial arts and meditation together. And falls gave way to winters and springs. Christmas decorations came and went and so did Memorial Day barbecues, sparklers on Independence Day and Thanksgiving Turkeys, that Cobb finally learned to cook without Phillipa's help.

Something nagged at the back of Cobb's mind as Phillipa tried out for the 7the grade Girls Volleyball team and James started Cub Scouts. He noticed some gray in his goatee and shaved it before the Phillipa's first Middle School Dance. That had to be it, the gray in his beard.

-0-0-

Arthur and Ariadne returned the shades, curtains, pictures, switches and faucets to their original positions. Not that it mattered, except for the curtains and shades. Outside Arthur pulled out his phone and did a quick mental calculation that it was about nine o'clock in the evening in Paris. By this time of night, Professor Miles would probably have put away the papers he'd been grading and gone to pour himself a glass of port and put some jazz records on his old phonograph. Arthur hoped he hadn't gone to sleep yet.

"Who are you going to call?" Ariadne followed him out the front door.

"Professor Miles, of course." Arthur glanced around the yard, taking in the trees and the dunes. Something moved in tall sea grass that grew on top of the dunes. Might be a rabbit.

"Why him?"

"He's Cobb's father-in-law, or didn't they tell you that?"

The Point Man and the architecture student returned to the rental car while they waited for the call to connect. He looked through the window at the newspaper in his seat and saw that the headline still made the correct angle with the back of the seat. Hopefully that means no one has tampered with the car in any way. Then he went around and got Ari's door.

Sitting down inside the car, Arthur plugged his phone into the car's Synch system so they could both hear and talk.

"Hello?" the Professor answered. He didn't sound groggy, but he did sound tired.

"Hello, Miles." Arthur started the car and backed out of the driveway.

"Hello, Arthur, my friend." Professor Miles's voice came across with a slight delay.

"Yes, it's Arthur and I've got Ariadne here with me." Arthur checked his rear view mirror and scanned the dunes. He made a mental note of what he saw.

"Hello, Professor." Ariadne chimed in. She hadn't scanned the mirrors. She failed to notice anything in the Dunes.

"I don't want to keep you." Arthur gave the code phrase that the call was compromised. He'd seen the flash of the sun off the glass in the binoculars. They'd been watched at Cobb's. Which meant a tail. Which meant someone was probably hacking his phone right now. Saito was supposed to square things with Cobol Engineering. Arthur's mind raced and he glanced at Ariadne as they pulled out into the street. She was about to speak, but he made a hand sign, waving a line across his throat.

She took the hint and didn't say anything else.

"Oh it's no bother." Professor Miles responded with the code phrase that meant he understood they didn't have privacy.

"Have you heard from Dom? We haven't seen or heard from him in a couple of days."

"Last I knew, he was staying at his final destination."

"Okay, get some sleep. Good bye."

Ariadne chimed in, "Goodbye Professor."

"Goodbye, luv." The Professor's voice sounded jolly and good natured. Arthur pressed the end button on the steering wheel and the call disconnected.

"What was -" Ariadne began, but cut off abruptly as Arthur again used a finger to draw a line across his throat.

He pointed to the radio as he grabbed his phone from the Synch port.

Ariadne turned the radio on and busied herself with the volume and tuning controls. She found a station playing modern jazz. "Now this I can get into. They still have the most wonderful jazz clubs in Paris."

Fiddling with the battery of his phone, trying to disconnect it, Arthur replied, "Oh do they now? Which one is your favorite?

"Why, The Franc Pinot of course."

"Oh really?" Arthur flipped the batter off of his phone and it tumbled to the floor at his feet. "Tell me about it."

"It is one of the most atmospheric jazz clubs in Paris. Listening to live music with natural acoustics of the old vaulted stone cellars on the Ile St Louis in the heart of Paris is absolutely a 'must' for fans of swing and beebop, like me. Concerts start at 7pm or 9pm depending on the program-" Ariadne broke off suddenly as Arthur tried break but found he couldn't push the pedal all the way to the floor. The driver in front of them was slowing to make a right turn.

They swerved sharply zig-zagging around the turning car and drawing the ire of the drivers behind them. Horns blared. Arthur accelerated through a stop light as the yellow turned red. He put his phone in the change tray and pumped the breaks. He glanced around and switched lanes ensuring that he kept a few carlenghts between them and other drivers. He reached the Ventura Highway and turned south. No more traffic lights for a while.

"Why Arthur, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, Ariadne." Keeping his right foot on the gas, Arthur reached under the break pedal with his left on and knocked his phone battery back under the driver seat. He smile sheepishly and then noticed that Ariadne had disassembled both her phone and the GPS Navigator that came with the rental car.

Arthur turned the volume up on the radio and leaned over toward Ariadne to explain that he was pretty sure he'd see the glint of sunlight off a set of binoculars in the dunes. "Thank you for the music and normal sounding conversation back there. We had a tail at Cobb's house and they could have hacked my phones and the GPS, turned them into listening devices. Unplugging the batteries is the only certain way to defeat that."

-0-0-0-

Meanwhile, at the Bellagio Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada, Eames stood at a craps table wearing an open collared dress shirt with a blazer and jeans. On hand held an appletini, the other, dice. Two attractive red heads in short dresses on his left were flirting with him, and he thought one of the very handsome, very suave single men in a tuxedo with the bow-tie untied, on the far side of the table had an eye on him as well.

Eames was up but not so much that the casino security should notice. He threw again. He won again. The crowd around the table cheered.

A waitress came by and traded his drink for a fresh one. The drink was free but he tipped her a five dollar chip anyway. Eames was about to ask the two darling red heads what they wanted when he noticed they'd disappeared, replaced by the glamorous young man from the far side of the table. One Eames's other side another guy had appeared who looked like he'd ridden in on a Harley-Davidson or an Arabian stallion.

The handsome man produced a Palm Pilot with a photo on the screen. The picture had cross-hairs in the center and appeared to have been taken through the scope of a high-powered rifle. In the back ground of the picture Eames noticed dunes and a beach house. In the foreground a nondescript sedan. Exiting the house were Cobb's Point Man, Arthur and the girl on his team, Ariadne. His face betrayed no emotion. "If you're trying to sell me a house, you might at least show me one without a yard full of weeds and untrimmed shurbs."

The charming gent grunted, "It ain't the house you should be payin' attention to, Man. It's your friends."

The bruiser spoke in a very smooth tone, "Our employer is not interested in you or the girl. But they want to extract a price from your associates Arthur Stone and Dominic Cobb. Why don't you come over to one of the booths in the bar with us and share some Irish coffees with us. I understand they're something of a speciality here. Light them on fire and toss them between steel carafes, they do."

Eames looked back and forth between the two of them looking slightly confused, as each man's voice seemed to match the other. He scooped up his chips and tossed a 25 dollar chip to the table attendant. Following the two men to a booth he thought to himself, _Let's see where this leads..._

-0-0-0-0-

Back in Los Angeles, Arthur and Ariadne returned their nondescript sedan to the rental agency at the Airport and ridden the shuttle back to the International Terminal. Their tail had broken off when they'd turned into the Airport. There's still too many cops and alert people at an airport.

On the shuttle bus, they sat in the back and spoke in hushed tones.

"I get that you think your phone was compromised," Air stared out the window, "but what did we learn from Miles?"

"Well, he didn't use either of our prearranged duress words, so he's okay and so is the person we were asking about, in this case Cobb." Arthur tucked the sections of the morning's Times that he'd held onto in an inside pocket of his blazer.

"And when are you going to give me these prearranged codes?" Ariadne fiddled with her scarf.

"When I'm sure that we still have a team," Arthur zipped his weekend back up again and stared out the window at airplanes taking off and landing, "and that you're on it."

Arthur had no American currency and he didn't want to use credit if he could avoid it. Who ever was after them could be watching for that. The stores in the International Terminal would probably take his Australian dollars, at an inflated exchange rate, no doubt. They'd have to stay another day and that would mean a trip downtown to cash a check. That would take longer to show up on the transaction records. He kept accounts in DeutcheBank and Mitusbishi Bank of Tokyo. One of them would be open. Then he'd take Ariadne to the beach and swim before sunset.

Inside the International Terminal, they found a payphone next to a coffee kiosk in the ticketing area. Ari stayed with their bags. Arthur walked over to the snack and magazine store to buy a phone card with cash. The checkout girl took his Australian twenty dollar bills after he'd showed her the exchange rate in the _Los Angeles Times_ business section he still had with him.

Miles answered on the eighth ring, "Allo?"

"Miles, Arthur." He and Ariadne stood with their heads almost touching. Arthur held the phone between them so they could both hear and talk. "Sorry to wake you."

"Are you really, Arthur?"

Arthur's silence was deafening.

"I am." Ariadne piped up.

"Well, bless you my dear." Miles paused. "I got an email message from an old colleague of Dom's and Arthur's. Quite a strange one, it was."

"And?"

"He said to tell Arthur that he's looking to spend some of his fee from the latest Job on a new custom engineered Tesla Roadster in cobalt blue."

"That's very interesting." said Arthur.

"D'you have any idea why this chap is contacting me with this? I have to teach a class in the morning, Arthur. Call me back at a civilized hour. My class is at 9.30."

The line went dead.

They rode the express bus from the airport to downtown.

"So does that tell us? A custom engineered car that's cobalt blue?" Ariadne voiced her frustration. What has that to do with anything?"

"Before the Fisher Job, Arthur and I did a job for a company called Cobol Engineering. They wanted us to help them win the bid for on oil pipeline contract in east Africa. Cobol rhymes with Cobalt."

"So Eames is trying to tip us about Cobol Engineering." Ariadne, ever the quick wit, connected the dots as fast as Arthur drew them.

"That must be who hired the tail that I saw up in the dunes around Cobb's house." Arthur mused. "Cobol Engineering practically owns whole countries in east Africa, the ones that aren't owned by the Chinese, anyway..."

"That doesn't get us any closer to knowing where Cobb is." Ari pointed out.

"It could explain a phone call from Yusuf the Chemist. If I had gotten that call in Reality and not in a dream."

"How do you know it wasn't a real call that got mixed up in your dream?" Ari asked. "Did you check the call log in your phone?"

"No." Arthur pulled his phone and its battery out of his weekend bag and hooked them back together long enough to check the call log. There it was. A call from Mumbassa. _Holy frak! "_What is Cobb doing in Mumbassa?"

* * *

Thanks to my readers and reviewers.


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